Eve
by Sebastian Levesque
Summary: Hi. My name is Easton...and I sold my soul to the Antichrist.
1. Chapter 1

Hi. My name is Easton…and I sold my soul to the Antichrist.

Things have changed since I moved out of my parents' house – I've changed. I still remember hearing the disbelief in my mother's voice when I told her that I wanted to go to college. She had those beautiful blue eyes that wouldn't hold any inner anguish, like it was a poison that needed to be expelled from the mind. I never said 'no' to her, even as a child. When I finally did, it was like…it was like I'd actually – physically – hit her. I could see the hurt in her youthful eyes, though it was not her own. What would dad say? The family business was still going strong after thirty something years of steady success. His son was going to college instead of picking up the old restaurant from his old man. He was looking forward to the dream too…father and son working side by side…and all that good stuff. It was not what I wanted though. What I wanted was to have something of my own. I liked to write mostly…not the ideal hobby one goes to college with, but it was something I was passionate about like millions of other people.

So, I moved out of the house and into the dorms by myself. I would not hear from either of my parents for a long time; my mother would still send money from time to time. Ultimately, I would drop out my second year. The money would stop coming. I moved into a one-man apartment with what little I made working small jobs in temporary positions. I even managed to keep a job waiting on people for a few months. Needless to say though…nothing turned out like I thought it would. By that time I was twenty-two. According to the map in my head, I was supposed to be making beautiful stories. I was supposed to be nearing the rough road of publishing, getting reviews, finding new inspiration! Instead I was overdue on my monthly payment to my landlord and I still had a considerable amount of debt to pay off.

I ended up on the streets. I stopped caring…because what can you really care about at that point? I had no income anymore, and finding another place to stay was next to impossible with no money on you. I was too stubborn to go home, however. I did not want to show up a failure; I feared rejection more than that. Here is where I am supposed to die. I am destined, according to the facts of life, to rot in my own waste as I become a shadow of a man who used to exist with his own dreams. But I didn't. I met Eve.

She was a tiny thing with a voice that made the air moan and a laugh that made you want to listen. Her eyes were mesmerizing and small, a deep and bright shade of green that made her light skin all the more appealing. Her hair was black and incredibly long; she mimicked a goddess with the thick strands ending at her hips. She had the most gorgeous lips I had ever seen, plump things that revealed such perfect teeth. How a woman like that could exist was beyond my knowledge…at the time. We met at a crossroads (very prevalent in the area). She asked for the time and I told her; it was after three in the morning, going on thirty-three minutes. How we started a conversation in the first place, I cannot entirely recall. The next thing I knew, we were talking…just talking in the middle of an intersection. I thought it was odd that she would be wandering out here, especially with a face like that.

Eve was from a wealthy family, adopted into their walls when she was barely a toddler. The religious bunch was invested in several different companies and worked with their church. She found all of it a bore and she left when she was eighteen. Now twenty-one, Eve was earning her own way through life; how, she would not say. From what she wore, I could tell it must have been a well-paying job. Tucked in to flared and black white pants was a black button down shirt, small details outlined in white. The shirt looked like silk, but I could have been mistaken. Her pale heels (not quite white) looked enormous on her feet, the black heel giving her a few extra inches; she was still shorter than me.

"But what are you doing here?" I asked her again.

She considered this for a moment, the brightness of her eyes becoming overcast with thoughts I could only imagine. "For you, Easton Crossley."

The red flag came a little late. Women never really had a firm place in all the time I had been alive. I had female friends at some point, a couple of brief crushes now and then. In college I tried dating a few times, but nothing ever lasted. There would be the long awaited kiss at the end of the night, and then nothing. Eve was different though…and how she knew me was terrifying.

"I am here for you," She repeated. "To give you what you could never give yourself."

I could barely believe what I was hearing. The drastic change in her tone from soft to its dominant peak was chilling. "What… How do you know who I am?"

She gave me another of her precious smiles. "I know a lot of people, Easton. I know you because it's my job to…my duty, my purpose. I'm here now to make a deal."

"What kind of deal…?"

"The sweetest of them all." She paused, her eyes searching mine. "I will give you everything you have ever wanted out of life. I will give you success and wealth, even the means to strike down your enemies. I promise you all of this…in exchange for you."

My mother always said that I would end up around another woman's finger. It is actually kind of funny now looking back. Eve's offer was complete bullshit to me. I thought to myself, _she's probably one of those serial killers. She likes to pretend to be a man's last resort and then she kills them._ I also thought she was crazy…maybe a little traumatized by a drug that made you think you were a god or something. I did not run away, unfortunately. I decided to humor myself as I looked at her. She was serious, or at least, she believed she was.

"In exchange for me? My soul would make more sense, you know…"

This made her laugh. "Eager to put your soul on the table? _My_…what would daddy say?"

I said nothing.

"I was planning on letting you go when it was all said and done…but this is far more interesting." She had another strange look in her eyes. "Your soul for everything you could ask for…"

Gambling was never my forte. Normally, a man's ultimate dream would be to make it big in Vegas. Of course I would be the man who would lose everything just playing poker. Still, my skepticism of the entire situation was showing and I really had nothing like this to think of. If it turned out to be as bogus as I thought, then at least I had a good story to tell my fellow street walkers.

"Your _answer_, Easton." She moved towards me, her hand lifted in a greeting gesture.

_My...what would daddy say? _I lifted my own to take hers. "Deal."

She grabbed my hand suddenly. It felt as if the whole world was shaking under my feet; sirens and shrieking machine alarms sounded in the distance. Eve was still though, her face a mask of indifference. "I will be seeing you _very_ soon." She told me through the faintest of smiles.

Then she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Easton Crossley. Yeah, that's me.

When I left you, I made the deal. Well…I did not make it, but I _accepted_. Eve left me in the blink of an eye, and I mean that literally. The last thing I saw of her were those eyes…

I spent the night listening to sirens and feeling the earth shake underneath me. It was like all of it was only in my mind. _Was I_ hallucinating? The answer was – and is – no. I wish I could say it was not, but my sanity likes to challenge itself from time to time. Ever hear the old phrase, "If you need to ask if you're crazy, then you're not"?

The next couple of days were definitely out of the ordinary. While I was still on the streets I managed to see what was going on around me as a whole. An earthquake uprooted the concrete and the dirt for miles around. Vehicles were damaged by the activity below and buildings – in some cases – fell. The death toll was under twenty, but everyone was still in shock. An earthquake hitting our area was unheard of. Of course, you had the usual nut claiming that God was angry at them all for whatever reason. We were all stumped. I myself was in a sort of denial of what occurred. My mind immediately made assumptions. _'Maybe it was your deal…you should have left her there…'_ I ignored them though. Lingering on the matter was driving me crazy. I could have been mistaking the annoyance for hunger, but at the time it was all the same.

Then I saw her again.

I thought I finally cracked when I spotted Eve. She was in an expensive looking vehicle and she drove right past me. I physically froze on the sidewalk as I followed the route of the vehicle with my eyes. When it turned onto another street, I think I was hyperventilating. An older woman I did not even know stopped to ask me if I was okay, but I could not answer. She was gone though, and immediately after I managed to calm myself I convinced my head that it was not her.

"Honey?" The woman was still standing next to me, pale brows raised with worry. "Are you sick?" She placed a wrinkled hand to my forehead. I was sweating. "Oh, you are! Come with me, dearie."

"Ma'am, please…"

"No. I don't need to hear any talk from you, young man."

This woman I did not know at all took me to her home. I explained over and over that I was fine. I even told her that I was homeless. Still, it was like she had some form of Dementia. I was certain she did. Numerous times I told her my name, but she continued to call me "Gideon". I had no idea who this person, Gideon, was! She kept calling me by his name the entire time she kept me at her home. He was family whoever he was, and he was around my age and looks in her mind. I stayed with her though, fearing the way her own illness made her act. I caught her trying to leave the house in the middle of the night once; she was in nothing but her night dress. It was a week before she died. I found her sitting her favorite chair in her room. She wasn't moving and her head was bowed. I checked her pulse, but she was cold… I felt horrible. In her right hand, she had been clutching a rosary.

She still had a land-line phone, which I used to call for help. When they came, I told them only how I found her and what she had been doing for the last few days. When they asked my name, I lied. I told them I was Gideon. I was in for a surprise though. As it turned out, "Gideon" was her only surviving son. He was to inherit a property in the north, along with some money…

This horrified me.

After a funeral (I did not attend) and a few meetings, I signed some papers. Everything was mine. The property in question was nothing too fancy. It had two floors and an attic, a master bedroom to add to the four other rooms. It even had a basement and a garage. I will not lie now…the guilt I felt in the first stages of the woman's death was overwhelming. But when it was all said and done…I was like any other man. I felt that guilt, if only for a few days.

I cleaned myself up after everything, and for the first time in a few short years, I saw myself clearly. I was twenty-five, and I looked like a new man. I had belongings now. I had clothes and a car and a house. I thought it all lucky. In the back of my mind, I was still horrified. Eve's face – her smile – was still carved into my memories.

When I first laid eyes on my inherited residence, it'd been two weeks since the woman's death. I parked my car in the garage with the excitement of a child and the anxiety of a god-fearing man. I went in through the front door and saw a very spacious living area. To the left was a dining room and beyond a large kitchen. There was a separate hall where two other bedrooms had been place. One complete bathroom was to be shared and a minimalist laundry room would be at the end of the three doors. Upstairs, two rooms were side by side. The attic was at the end of the wide hall, another bathroom off to the side. I heard something before I could enter the master room. I hesitated briefly, praying it was only the house; it sounded like fast moving air. My hand was shaking. I opened the door as slowly as I could…and I saw her. She was standing there, at the enormous mirror secured to the far wall. Not turning away, she saw my reflection and I saw her face lift with a visible pleasure. "Hello, Easton."


	3. Chapter 3

The confessional was cozy, she thought. They ran large here, but she liked them more in Italy. Ah, yes, they knew their tastes well. The chair underneath her was dressed in a fine fabric that wrinkled when she sat and the room smelled of fresh water. There was also a hint of incense in the air, very heavy but clear. Over the arm of her seat she folded her navy blazer, leaving her white tank exposed. Her arms had bumps on them from the chill of the room, and even through the tight legs of her dark jeans she could feel the chilling wave. Her toes curled inside her round-toed heels, a slight shiver crawling along her spine.

"Miss?"

She looked up from her hands, eyes smiling at the man across from her. "I'm ready, father." She took note of the large cross perched on the wall behind him. She made the sign of the cross, just as he did, and she began to speak. "Bless me, father, for I have sinned. It has been six days since my last confession…"

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us…to cleanse us –"

"From all unrighteousness." She finished the verse for him.

"What are these sins, child?"

"Father, I have sinned against heaven," Her eyes met the man's. "And taken a good man's soul." The smell of the smoke was nauseating; her head was aching.

A confused light became centered on the man's face. "I'm...excuse me?"

Her eyes left his face, focused now on the cross above. The figure at the center appeared to be dull, the crown on its head collecting bits of dust. She smiled. "Does he know, father?"

"I'm sorry?"

Her eyes came back down to meet his. The nausea was building. "Does he know who you've been fucking in here?"

The priest got his feet rather quickly. This made her smile. "Who are you?" He questioned, his tone suddenly lowered.

"Who are _you_, priest?" She leaned herself back into the chair, laughter rising from her throat. "How many women have you invited back here to fuck? Do they _praise God_ for your deeds?" She heard her own voice distort itself for a word or two.

The man made the sign of the cross once more, hastily. "Resist the devil…and he will flee from you."

"Make no mistake, father. I am not the devil." She stood with him, but hesitated. The priest revealed his own crucifix from his robes. She thought the tiny thing insulting.

"Who _are_ you?" He pressed, the crucifix held at face level. "You will tell me your name in the house of our lord."

"Will I?" She held her arms up. "Who will force it from my mouth? Your lord?" Her arms came down, but one hand lashed out at the man. The crucifix was dislodged from his grip and went to the floor. "Crosses won't save you, priest."

He was speaking again. "Our father in heaven…hallowed be thy name…" She pushed him by his forehead to the floor until he was kneeling. Eyes closed, he continued. "Forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation –"

"But deliver us from the evil one." She looked down at his closed eyes as her fingers ran through his greying hairs. "I know you… I know how you have committed your sins in this room where sins leave lips so easily…" She took hold of his right hand, turning the palm up towards herself. "Your time is at an end."

The man lifted his head now and he looked up at her with a new confidence. "The lord is with us again, demon. He will put an end to you all…and to the devil's child."

"His child is here, priest…and _I_ _know_ where the holy child is."

Horror whitened the man's features.

"I have taken a good man's soul, father." She lowered her head, lips now inches away from his palm. "And I have promised yours to many others."

* * *

I found myself speechless, yet again.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not here to collect just yet." She grinned, eyes moving over her own reflection, then back to mine. "Enjoying your new home? I'd say it fits you…the _aspiring_ writer. I like the basement personally…nice touch to the formalities."

"How did you…" I could barely hang on to my words. "You knew I was here?"

Eve turned on her heel to face me, her hair following the sudden movement. "How do you think you even inherited this house…_Gideon_?" Her smile was wide when she said this, and my realization and confusion betrayed me. Her laugh echoed through the room. "You thought it was luck? How do you think those idiots recognized you as the old hag's boy? You'd be behind bars if they knew the entire story. I must say, you bear a striking resemblance to him...and the whole rugged look really sold me."

"How the hell do you even know what he looked like?"

"The photographs, Easton. You saw them, didn't you? He's a very hard person to track down. All I had to do was make him disappear for awhile, visit ole' mum –"

"So what, you threatened her?" My anger was delayed, but the old woman's face was still burned into me. "Just so you could hold up your end of the deal…"

"She did it of her own free will, Easton. Our deal is far from over…this is just the beginning."

"You're insane." I turned away from her, but a sharp pain suddenly grabbed me by the chest. It brought me to my knees…and I could hardly breathe. The sensation was harsh, like a blade had been pushing through my ribs and to my heart. I think I was screaming. Then…it stopped.

Eve was standing over me and I saw that her eyes weren't green anymore. They were black…like a void. I almost stopped breathing again. "You are not your own…Easton. Your soul is mine." She squatted next to me and I think I flinched. She brought my head back to look at her. "Consider your words before you speak again. Do not make me change my mind." Her fingers left my chin and she stood again. I saw her eyes lessen their shadow until their natural color regained control. She turned to face the room again.

"Why…" My question was begging to be answered. "Why me?"

Her head turned slightly, "All good things in time."


	4. Chapter 4

This reality was a personal hell from which I was unable to escape. Eve and her ramblings were driving me up the wall with an irritation I was certain could provoke the most amiable of men. She stayed with me in the house, which I did not expect. Still, her presence was equivalent to that of a ghost during the evenings. She often left without a word and returned at dawn. I wasn't even sure if she slept sometimes. If she did, it would always be in the master room. Her disappearances to this room coincided with her arrivals in early hours. I remember waking one night from an exhausting slumber to hearing her voice. She had been talking as if in conversation, but her words would elude me. Each morning I woke with a dull ache in my chest as if the attack from within had repeated itself. I didn't know what to do under her watch. She knew my thoughts, even followed me if I left for an extended time. Eventually, I stopped going out. I felt confined to the house I should have never been granted. I wrote now to vent and to find some clarity, which never really came. Still, my worries went beyond the two of us.

My old "town" was becoming a hell in itself. Another quake shook us to life one night and people started becoming hysterical. I thought to myself that nothing was out of the ordinary despite the universal fear of earthquakes. The daily life, I found, was as horrific as ever…even if it seemed off the charts. Several individuals had been on the missing persons list for weeks now. Most of them were well-known or else average "with no enemies". Some faces I recognized instantly, yet others were a complete mystery. It only began to unnerve me when I saw the man, Gideon's photograph; he was missing for a month, going on two. His mother also, whose body I had seen with my own eyes, was side by side with her son's picture. Satanic rituals were becoming an issue among the younger generation, otherwise unheard of if you really cared to think about it. Rumors of infanticides were becoming the focus of daily news; in one case a priest had been arrested for drowning several children after abducting them in public. To this, Eve laughed and said, "The Pagans would be proud."

My writings came out in a frenzy. I would become absorbed in the anger of the pages until the pain in my chest returned. I despised it and I wanted to curse Eve so badly for what trick she worked to claim my obedience. I was still afraid though and I hated myself for it. No more than two months in her "care" did she finally acknowledge me for more than a minute. I heard her calling to me from the second floor. I went up like a dead man walking. When I went into her room, I had to look away immediately; she was half-naked. It was a split second too late though. Her long hair partially concealed bare flesh from her chest to her hips, but I had seen such pale skin. Her eyes displayed an innocent contemplation as she stared down the clothing on the bed. She spoke when it appeared she had made a decision. "Don't act like you haven't seen the female body before." Her tone was neutral.

I suppressed a sigh. "What do you want?"

"To return something." She paused, dressing her bottom half in dark pants. She then turned from me to the bedside table. I heard a drawer and my eyes wandered over her bare back. I saw her spine beneath her skin with her hair parted to the front. There was a faded mark at the base – a birthmark possibly. When she turned back towards me her parted hair was plastered to her torso, the paleness of her breasts hidden. In her hand, I saw my journal. My heart sank and she smiled. "You are quite the find…" She tossed the large item onto the bed, pulling her hair back. I looked away. "Keep an eye on the news." She added.

When she'd dressed down her top half, she tossed me the journal; I caught it with ease. There was a dark understanding being shadowed within myself. What she meant was a mystery, but I was filled with some sort of hatred – a hopeless despair. "Did you kill them?" I asked slowly. My gaze wavered on her figure.

She crossed the room to the mirror, a necklace in hand. "Did I kill who, Easton?"

My grasp on my journal tightened. I was sure that my hands were moist. "That woman...and her son."

She bowed her head. I saw in the mirror no change in her forehead. Her lashes were a thick veil over her eyes and her mouth was still. It changed though…and I saw her lips pull themselves up. "Come now, Easton. You'll need to be more specific."

"Stop _fucking_ with me!" I shouted. "_What did you do?_"

"What did I do…" Her fingers passed over her necklace. It looked like a coin. She turned her body to face me. A few silent steps and she was only a foot away. She repeated herself in a tone that pierced my chest. "What did I do?"

"You –"

"_I_," She cut in, clenching her teeth. "I did nothing you haven't asked for."

"I never asked for _this_!"

Eve's eyes narrowed. "So innocent…" I saw her cross her arms. "You never asked for this? Easton, have you forgotten our deal so soon?"

"You never said anything about murder." I held her scowling irises, but with a suppressed terror. I think they were expanding.

"You naïve man!" She sneered. "What exactly did you think would happen when I made my offer? Did you expect a religious handout?" Eve broke eye contact and distanced herself. Her arms went up as if to gesture to the room itself. "Did you think this was all pulled out of someone's ass?" I heard her scoff. "Easton…you poor, innocent fuck. _Nothing_ in this world is simply handed to you. You must _take_ and _take_." Her arms fell to her sides. Eve looked at me for the first time with a heavyheartedness. Her face was cheerless, but I saw she quickly resolved her sudden silence. "Tell me…what is it still lurking in that heart of yours? What desires?"

I didn't answer.

"_You_ asked for an opportunity, and I gave it to you. _You_ asked for someone to care, and I found her for you."

I swallowed hard with my heart pounding. The old woman's aimless stare came to my mind.

"Yes, _Easton_." Eve went on. "You wanted more after that didn't you? You asked for a home for yourself," She gestured to the room again. "And _I_ gave it to you."

"What you're doing…" I was quiet. "It's wrong."

"There is no right or wrong in this world, Easton." She replied. "Those terms are inventions of men." She sat down on the edge of the bed, fingers toying with her necklace. "Sins and their virtues are all fantasies."

I left the room, unable to cope with the things she'd said. The guilt she named fictitious took me by storm. Journal in my hand, I retired to my own room. It was only three in the afternoon. When I awoke, it was after midnight and Eve was gone again. I wrote despite my renewed fear of her prying eyes and slept until dawn. I heard Eve's return, but I did not acknowledge it. That morning, I watched the news as the routine ordered. My name came up in the early segment. Apparently, I had written a novel. As I listened, I heard that it gained popularity overnight. Copies were being sold left and right as people were so eager to read about the poor man who sold his soul to a devil; _Seven_, it was named. The book, said to be the first of a series, was described as having a format similar to diary entries. Epistolary. Eve's voice resounded in my – now silent – thoughts. _What desires?_


End file.
